Did I Suffer from Estrogen Dominance? Do You?

I've documented my problems with progesterone and, unless you skip those blog posts or your eyes simply glaze over, you're aware that I've had some hormonal difficulties.  Progesterone is but one hormone that rises and falls throughout the month and I began thinking about that other hormone that rules the menstrual cycle:  estrogen.  Specifically, I began to question whether my estrogen levels were balanced.

What do you think I discovered?  I think that I not only have had low progesterone levels, but I think my estrogen levels were too high.  Estrogen dominance can occur no matter what your estrogen levels may be if you're low on progesterone.  I may have been suffering from estrogen dominance for a long time.

What are the symptoms of estrogen dominance?  Irregular menstrual cycles, heavy bleeding, infertility, irritability, mood swings, fatigue, headaches, and the list goes on.  Yep, sounds like me!

Adding to the hormonal havoc is that there are chemicals in certain foods that mimic estrogen in the body.  These compounds are called phytoestrogens.  Naturally, some of my favorite foods contain phytoestrogens!

Indeed, over 300 foods have been identified as having phytoestrogens.  Lignans and isoflavones are probably the most well known classes of phytoestrogens and, courtesy of my love of flax and soy, I have had a daily (or almost daily) dose of those two for MANY, MANY YEARS!  Why am I yelling about this?  Because studies have indicated that animals who consume diets high in phytoestrogens have documented reproductive problems!!!

I'm not saying that my diet was the reason that I found conception so difficult.  I'm also not saying that it wasn't a factor.  Combined with the low progesterone levels, I think it definitely could have had a negative impact on my pregnancy quest.  Note that I'm not saying that diet causes fertility difficulties because a correlation does not equal causation.  I'm just saying that it's a fascinating coincidence that I consumed a diet high in phytoestrogens and I have had a difficult time conceiving and carrying children even though I was well younger than my mid-30s.

Although I'm currently pregnant, I'm avoiding foods that are high in phytoestrogens.  Forgoing my daily doses of flaxseed oil isn't so difficult, but I know that I'm going to have some real difficulty when the heat is on and cold tofu with soy sauce, green onions, & ginger is all that sounds good to eat.  My AC kicked on about twenty minutes ago so I suppose the heat is on right now! 

Hm, looks like a lot of frozen yogurt might be in my future!  Bummer.  ;-)

The Urge + The Surge = Aw, Yeah!

My son woke me twice in the early morning; once at 3:00 am and again at 4:00 am.  I hardly woke up the first time he came to our room, but his whining and wailing jolted me awake an hour later.  What was the problem?  I have no idea and I was beyond irritated when he wouldn't go back to bed.  Naturally, he went right to sleep when Daddy tucked him back in bed.

Unfortunately, I wasn't able to sleep again from that point on.  There's not much to do at that time of day and I considered going to the gym.  Seriously, I did consider it. 

I quickly dismissed gym-bound ideas in favor of sexy thoughts.  Sure, sex isn't all that good of a workout, but at least you get immediate results for your effort!  However, I was distracted away from my mental porn by thinking about my cervix.

I blogged about my cervical adventure last night and I still find the thing pretty fascinating.  I was curious if it felt differently this morning so I popped in to check it out.  Whoa!  I am so glad that I did!

Remember when I mentioned that the cervix changes around ovulation?  I felt those changes this morning.  Crazy, right?  It was totally different less than twelve hours earlier!

This morning it was higher and softer.  The dimple somehow felt deeper, but I couldn't really tell as the cervix itself was so much higher than it was just last night and it wasn't as easy to reach.  I think it also felt wetter (for lack of better term), but wasn't sure if that could be traced to my earlier thoughts about sex.  Yeah, I probably should have checked my cervix before letting my mind run wild.

After making this cervical discovery, I jumped up and ran to the bathroom to pee on an ovulation predictor stick.  Sure enough, I was experiencing the LH surge that I've been waiting for the last several days.  Yes! 

So now I have a date that I can begin to take the progesterone and, if nothing else, hopefully that will help extend my luteal phase so I won't be back on my period in less than ten days.  Ideally, of course, the progesterone will help support a pregnancy if I conceive.  I'll be thankful for the former, but I'd prefer the latter!

Following that train of thought, I wondered if I should hit up hubs for a roll in ze hay (someone's been watching Young Frankenstein!) right then or if I should wait until this evening.  I know that my "egg-whites" will be showing up shortly - probably within 12- to 24-hours.  Feeling unsure if the timing was right, I inspected my cervical fluid at length and I'm still not positive that it was stretchy and slippery enough for my husband's swimmers to make it where they need to go.  It stretched around 1.5" between my fingers. . .certainly stretchy, but nowhere near as stretchy as I've seen it before.  I kept digging around, wondering if my fluid was good enough and finally decided to stop overthinking everything so I made up my mind. 

I went for it.

Am I presenting fertile cervical fluid?  Sort of.  Would it have been better to wait until this evening?  Probably.  So why did I go for it anyway?  Well, because sex can lead to children, but it's supposed to be enjoyable just for the sake of having it too.  I was uncharacteristically horny at a very early hour (night owls paired with early birds quickly learn the joys of afternoon delight!) and wanted my husband.  Put simply, I wasn't going to let the lowered chance of conception stop me from enjoying him.

I sure that anyone who has been trying to achieve pregnancy can agree that trying for a baby is fun and exciting for a limited amount of cycles.  I found that it became disheartening after around a year of trying.  That's not to say that sex is no longer fun or exciting after that point, it's just that you become very aware of when you should do it and it paints the act with a special sense of urgency and pressure.  That urgency and pressure creates stress and stress can unfortunately kill your sexual desire.

Don't I want a baby?  Well, yeah!  But I wanted him more this morning and I thought that nurturing our relationship was far more important than worrying about expanding our family.

How's Your Cervix Hangin'?

Yeah, my fingers have been getting acquainted with my cervix this evening.  It's 9:30 at night; do you know where your cervix is?  I know where mine is and I know far more about it now that I ever hoped to know!

Why am I manually inspecting my cervix?  Why else?  It's a fertility thing.

If you've read my blog lately, you're probably aware that cervical fluid changes in a fairly predictable pattern throughout your cycle.  Did you know that your cervical position changes as well?  No?  Well, now you know!

I realize that the ladies are cringing at the notion of voluntarily poking around the cervix and, yes, it's not exactly a pleasant sensation.  Surely we've all experienced the unexpected jolt of pain while in the middle of enjoying a particularly vigorous romp in the sack?  Ah, nothing like the unmistakable feeling of a d*ck slamming into a brick wall. . .a brick wall which is actually a sensitive part of your body!  The upside to checking it myself is that I could be as gentle as necessary, but the downside is that even a light touch is somewhat uncomfortable.

I've been reluctant to check my cervical position because, well, I was afraid.  Of what?  I don't know. . .it's not like the Cervix Monster lurks within.  I just found the idea distasteful because it's so clinical.  I mean, this is one of the things that the doctor does during a pelvic exam and it's unsexy, awkward, and uncomfortable all the way around.  Also, I swear that sometimes their fingers ended up in my friggin' tonsils!  Geez, is it really necessary for them to go so deep?!

So what did I discover? 

Well, my cervix presents absolute proof that I've never vaginally delivered a child.  I must confess that I found my cute little cervical dimple to be irresistible to touch!  It was sooo clearly the opening and the rest of it is sooo definitely rounded.  Plus, the flesh itself is remarkably different than my vaginal walls.  I was pretty fascinated once I got up in there and felt around a bit.

I found that it's fairly easy to reach the cervix if you are squatting so deeply that your butt is almost totally down to the floor.  This was such an easier position than the doctor gets at it with; that is, you flat on your back and your legs in stirrups!  Once or twice I've thought that the doctor has gone wrist-deep to get to the damn thing. . .uh, not to be too graphic, but I could feel it with just my middle finger and no real digging around was necessary.

I realize that it sounds like I spent an hour fishing around up my love canal, but it only took a few seconds to get a feel for it.  Ha - get a feel for it!  I haven't been checking my cervical position so I can't say if I'll find it helpful in determining when I'm most fertile, but at least I'm not afraid of it and I'm very curious to discover how it changes as I get closer to ovulation. 

Of course, now that I'm ready to hit the progesterone suppositories five days after my LH surge, it would be my crappy luck to have this be an anovulatory cycle.  That is a cycle in which you do not ovulate; totally unfair, right?  If that's the case, I suppose I should get over my aversion to charting and start taking temps on the next cycle so I'll have all three bases loaded when it comes to tracking my fertility signs:  BBT, cervical fluid (+ OPK), and cervical position.

Do you check your cervix as one of the primary signs of fertility?  Any tips, advice, or funny stories to share?

Pondering Progesterone + A Related Rant

Since I secured the script for progesterone suppositories, I've been researching the hormone and I'm shocked at what I've learned in the last few days.  Everyone knows that hormonal imbalances can cause problems and I'm starting to think that I've had lower-than-"average" progesterone for a long time because I have been experiencing half of the symptoms for a few years now.

Symptoms of progesterone deficiency include:
- Frequent menstrual periods, specifically cycles shorter than 24 days.  Geez, I'd be thrilled if I actually had a 24-day cycle because it's usually around 20.
- Heavy menstrual periods.  I've discussed this at length this week and the sheer volume I'm shedding is extremely distressing.
- Mental and physical fatigue.  I kinda chalked this up motherhood, but I have noticed that it is getting worse rather than improving over the last couple of years.
- Headaches & migraine headaches.  I have suffered migraines for years, but it has improved and (knock on wood) I haven't had one in several months.  Regular headaches, on the other hand. . .the week isn't complete unless I have had a few.
- Insomnia.  OMFG!  I CAN NOT SLEEP - EVER!  I have been blaming it on my husband's snoring, but he's always done it and I've had sleep difficulties for around three-years so, yeah, something has changed.
- Depression.  I don't feel that it's fair to peg this on progesterone deficiency because the last twelve-months have brought me to my knees, but perhaps the lower hormone levels has made it more difficult to handle the stress and turmoil.
- Mood swings.  I never thought I had this, but my husband has took me aside to tell me that my temper sometimes lights up so fast that it's almost scary.  Perhaps it's a progesterone thing rather than my childish lack of control?
- Anxiety.  Eh, I've been a nervous wreck since I was a kid.
- Weight gain/inability to lose weight.  I so wish I could blame my current size on low progesterone, but the reality is that I'm just fat & lazy and I eat too much.
- Osteoporosis.  Good grief, I hope I don't have this.
- Increased HDL cholesterol.  I've had cholesterol problems off and on since I was 19-years old so I'm pretty sure this isn't related to hormones.
- Pain & inflammation.  Thankfully, I'm not suffering with this.
- Fibroids.  Again, I'm so thankful to not have this.
- Breast tenderness.  You probably need a little breast flesh for this symptom and I'm woefully under-endowed.
- Gas & indigestion.  I burp a lot, but I think it's the fizzy water.
- Snoring.  Never.  Tooth grinding, however. . .
- Miscarriage.  No f*cking comment. 

Actually, no, I do have a comment on that last "symptom."  More of a rant, I suppose.

I am furious to think that my baby may have died because my regular MD was so dismissive of my concerns about progesterone back in late-September.  I conceived shortly thereafter and didn't pursue it because I didn't know that low progesterone levels can result in miscarriage.  Why didn't I know that?  Because I'm not the f*cking doctor!!

My husband, realizing that I'm obsessing over this not-so-little detail, keeps reminding me that he's just a doctor rather than a specialist so perhaps he didn't know either.  I think that's a piss-poor excuse because he knew that I'd been trying to have a baby for a loooong freaking time and he knew enough about fertility to mention that I was considered infertile at that point because I had been trying to conceive for well over a year.  He knew I was having trouble and he didn't even bother to investigate any further to help his patient.  I was still shell-shocked over the death of my brother only a few weeks earlier and I didn't have the energy to push for answers and help. . .I so regret now that I didn't fight for myself because, had I done so, perhaps I'd be in my second trimester right this moment.

If he somehow didn't know that low progesterone can result in problems like infertility and miscarriage, then he still should have done something besides just dismiss my concerns.  He could have said that he didn't know enough about my levels to make any diagnosis or recommendation.  And how could he know anything since he didn't even send me for any damn testing?  Even better, he could have just referred me to gynecology from the start.

Had there been any testing performed or any indication that my levels were low (besides experiencing more than half the freaking list of  progesterone deficiency symptoms!), the progesterone suppositories could have been started back then and my baby may not have died.  That knowledge makes me sick with anger.  My poor baby probably didn't have a chance!

And this leads me to the rest of my rant. . .

Why does the medical community ignore miscarriage and treat it like no big deal until a woman experiences at least two or three losses?  Especially galling is that they have the same response (lack of response, really) even if you're in your mid-30s and have been experiencing fertility difficulties.  A woman's fertility starts diminishing in her late 20s and it really gets tricky to conceive once she's closer to 40.  I tried for over 1 1/2-years to get pregnant (it's two years this month) and it just seems like it would have been prudent to monitor my progesterone levels since I was already over 35-years of age and it had already been such a long time trying to conceive.  I can't help but wonder how long it will take to conceive again.  (please, please, please let it be on this cycle!)

Testing progesterone levels is a simple blood stick.  Why wouldn't they routinely test a woman's progesterone levels after her first miscarriage?  Hell, since progesterone levels can be low ten to fifteen years before menopause, why wouldn't they routinely test any woman in her 30s who is experiencing menstrual difficulties?

I have so much to say about this, but thinking about it just makes me feel more angry and more heartbroken so I have to stop writing for my own sanity.  I just think it's complete and total bullsh*t that miscarriages are ignored until a woman has lost at least two babies. . .at least two heartbeats silenced.  It's so ridiculously unfair and it's just not right.

No Wonder I Switched!

Blah, blah, blah. . .you've been warned that this is about my period so do yourself a favor and stop reading if you aren't interested.

I consulted my special notes the other day and I realized that I have had twelve periods this year.  Twelve!  And I had a couple of very long, hope-building & dashing, cycles this year!  I can't believe that November isn't even over yet and I've already had twelve periods for the year. 

I'm dumbfounded further that my doctor didn't seem to think there was anything wrong with this schedule.  Somehow I have to believe that he would think it was highly disturbing  if he suddenly began bleeding out of his privates every 20 days or so, but he isn't ham-handed so I guess that I'm willing to put up with his dismissive attitude.

More depressing than the knowledge that I've had twelve periods in less than eleven full months is the realization that I will likely have two more periods before the year is over.  Of course, this is assuming that my body doesn't suddenly start flowing like an average woman.  I'm also assuming at this point that I won't end the year with a bun in my oven.

I did the math and discovered that I would have spent around $100 on disposable products if I hadn't gone the reusable route earlier this year.  One hundred dollars for something that would just end up in the garbage. . .no wonder I made the switch to reusable products!

Maybe Next Month. . .

:-(

I don't know why I keep getting my hopes up.  I really should have known because I discovered that our birds (the ones with the nest under the eaves) were gone and an egg was broken on our driveway.  I know it sounds insane, but that's what happens when you're desperately seeking a baby.  You start looking for deeper meanings in all kinds of situations.

I'm happy for the women I know who are pregnant, but I feel a sharp empty sting when I learn of yet another pregnancy.  I'm happy for the women I know who have recently welcomed additional children to their families, but I'm embarrassed to admit that I cry when I leave after visiting with the new babies.  I guess I'm not that great of a friend because, instead of completely focusing on their joy, I can't help but feel a little sorry for myself.  I try to make sure that I have a good heart, but I just revealed that it isn't as good as I'd like.

I know that God is always in control and that everything happens for a reason.  God is still good and I'm still faithful.  I've already been blessed so much with my family:  my wonderful husband and our delightful son.  I give thanks every single day that I've been so abundantly blessed with my loving family and these two people represent more blessings than I could ever deserve, but I can't keep myself from boldly asking Him to bless me yet again.

We're to give thanks in all things.  That's a pretty tough order at times.  Times like tonight.  But I'll remind myself that He's in control and I'll thank Him.  I'll thank Him because suffering tenderizes the heart.  Disappointment leads to bitterness and this mother's heart needs to be periodically softened.

When the time comes that I weep for joy at the sight of a new baby, I'll remember all these bitter tears.  And I'll give thanks to Him yet again.

- for This Month Too

I'm a red-eyed, red-nosed, snotty-nosed, noisy mess when I cry. Shockingly enough, I prefer to cry in private. My favorite crying zone is the shower. It does a good job masking my sobs and hiding my tears. I like to shower once I put the little one to bed so I have plenty of time to cry it out.

What was making me boo-hoo tonight? My monthly pity party, of course.

Aunt Flo showed up this afternoon, so I broke out the Diva Cup. I had hoped that I wouldn't have to lay eyes on that Cup for at least a year or more, but thanks to certain events that occurred this month, I knew it wasn't likely that I could be pregnant. I'm somewhat resigned to seeing the Cup for at least a few more months. I think my vagina is resigned too because it didn't even put up a fight and the Cup easily slipped in place.

I know a lot of pregnant women right now. Eleven or twelve, maybe thirteen, I can't recall exactly. These are nice moms and I'm happy that they are able to expand their families. Seeing their joy ripen makes me wonder when I'll experience that joy again. . .if I'll experience that joy again.

I picked up around 15 ovulation prediction sticks yesterday from a friend. She had only used a couple of them and decided not to use the rest. Those sticks have brought my fertility superstitions to ridiculously epic levels. I had the fleeting thought that the reason why I'm not pregnant right now is because I didn't have the cash on hand to pay her for the sticks right then. What one has to do with the other, I don't know. That's the deal with superstitions though, isn't it? They're freaking stupid and make no sense.

My husband seemed surprised that we have been trying to conceive another child for so long. He thought it had only been a few months. I guess he didn't realize that I track EVERYTHING on a calendar. I track when I have my period, I try to estimate when I'll ovulate, I try to seduce him a day or two before my estimated ovulation, I write down when I have evidence of ovulation, I try to seduce him on that day, I track each and every time we do it - ovulation or not. And I do this each and every month. I must be sly because he had no idea.

Adding to my fertility woes is my terribly erratic cycle. I go anywhere from 20 to 35 days. It pretty much makes estimating fertile days absolutely impossible. That's why I finally decided to give the ovulation predictor sticks a try.

I know it will happen when it happens, but we aren't getting any younger and biology is a real b*tch when it comes to stuff like this. If there isn't a baby in my belly by the end of this year, I just don't know what we would do. Give up, I suppose.

It's so foreign for me to consider defeat. I am stupidly stubborn and I give up on nothing. I keep trying even when it is clearly obvious that there is no point. I find it hard to give up hope because it's all I have. Eventually, though, even I see the futility and I move on.



I'm in such a sour mood that I picked up on the similarities between the words 'futility' and 'fertility' - I really, really, really need to stop.

I'm Already Blessed

My husband and I have been trying for a second baby for just about one year and I don't think this will be our "lucky" month. Next month I will be making doctor appointments to make sure everything is as it should be with our baby-making equipment.

I was casually chatting with a friend this morning and she asked what my plans would be if we can't have another baby. I'd never really considered the idea, but it's entirely possible. Neither my husband nor myself are Spring Chickens and fertility does diminish as we age. I fumbled about and finally answered that I guess we'd just have our son then.

Her question haunted me for the rest of the day. I wondered if my answer was true. Would I be content to "only" have my son? What lengths would I go to in order to have another child? I began to suspect that I had not been entirely honest because I do ache to have another baby in my belly, in my arms.

My son was uncharacteristically cuddly when he woke from his nap this afternoon. He sat on my lap and snuggled from the moment that he woke until I began preparing his dinner. I spent that time reflecting on motherhood and wondering why I want another little one.

I found pregnancy exhausting. My back ached, ACHED, from month five until I delivered. My skin felt itchy. My ankles swelled to the size of my calves. I was bone-tired the entire time.

I found the newborn stage exhausting. I was in terrible pain for more than a month from my c-section incision. My breasts grew so full of milk that I was actually four cup sizes larger than normal and my nipples were stretched flat from the pressure. I remember leaning over, my nipples in a warm bowl of water, tears streaming down my face (engorgement is very painful, in case you don't know) while I squeezed my breasts so that they'd loosen up enough for my baby to latch on. My son nursed for 45 minute sessions for months and he wanted milk every 90 minutes for even longer. I suffered engorgement problems until my son was nearly nine months old. I once only slept for two hours in one 24-hour period. That's not two consecutive hours, it was a total of two hours.

I found the earliest days of motherhood exhausting. I spent months sobbing at home, feeling like I was the worst mother in history. I cried out silently for someone, anyone, to help me because I was failing by myself. I wondered why I couldn't just snap out of my funk and get on with life. I wept whenever I gazed at my darling boy because I knew that I wasn't worthy of such a beautiful gift.

I tell myself that I will love every moment of what would be my final pregnancy. I tell myself that I will adore the newborn stage of my last child. I tell myself that I will be able to competently handle the aches, pains, gripes, sleep deprivation, sadness, loneliness, and isolation. I tell myself that I will embrace these changes because I will never experience them again. Of course, I will probably complain every step of the way!

I don't know why God chose me to be my husband's wife. I don't know why He chose me to be my son's mother. I trust that He knows what he's doing and that's why I have the perfect gift of my family.

If I'm never blessed with another child, I suppose that I'll be okay with it. Perhaps I'm only capable of giving one child enough time and attention. Perhaps we'll have a reversal of fortune and we wouldn't be able to afford a second child. Perhaps another pregnancy would result in one of those ultra-rare life threatening situations. I don't know and it really doesn't matter.

I have already been blessed more than I could ever deserve. I'm a sinner's sinner and I could never earn such joy and bliss. In that sweet & snuggly hour that I spent with my son this afternoon, I realized that I have everything I need right now. I would accept another gift, but I've already been given so much.